Not Love
by the-bird-flies
Summary: It’s not love. It was never, ever love. So how come it hurts so much to leave? NaruSaku, SasuSaku, InoSaku, SasuIno.
1. Not Love

It's not love. It was never, ever love. When they sleep together, it's not love. Sex isn't love. And all the time they lie to each other, because they know what they can never have.

Whenever she calls him, he comes. Opening the door to her apartment, it feels as if the world comes down around him. Lying sweating, tangled in sheets with her kills him. And he knows that she feels the same way. He sees the pain flash across her face even as they climax in pleasure. And he knows that the same hurt goes through his eyes as he touches her as though she were a whore.

He loved her, she loved her, she loved him, and he murdered her. The never-ending story of hatred and unrequited love continues forever onward. They both loved the same woman, and that woman loved another, the same man who ended up getting her killed in a slip-up. They know that it wasn't his fault. Even when his golden head hangs as he gently touches the bark of the sakura tree planted in her honor, they don't blame him. But at the same time, they do.

In the ferocity of their kisses, in the height of their lovemaking, he isn't satisfied. Either is she. They both know that she loved them with everything that she had. She just loved him more. Enough to push him away from the blast that would have killed him. Enough to die for him, in his arms. It was his warmth that she felt, his tears that she tasted, and his words that she heard. And it was his voice that told them what had happened.

So when he fights, it is for her. When she cries, it is for her. When they lie together, cradled in each other's traitorous arms, however, it is for themselves, to heal the wounds and exorcise the haunting ghosts. They know that as she watches them, she hurts for them. But they don't see it; they can't see the love offered to them. So they choose their outlets, always making the same mistakes. They visit her, lay offerings over her broken body, love her with all of their beings, and hate each other for the pain. And then they go off and repeat everything, never looking back.

It's not love. It was never, ever love. So how come it hurts so much to leave?


	2. Ghosts

_Your best friends are your worst enemies, and your enemies are your closest friends._

"Please don't go," she whispered as she watched him stand up. The sheets were still tangled around her body, her hair messy, as she looked up at him, her deep blue eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Don't leave me here alone again."

He turned his head, looking back at her. She looked so delicate, so vulnerable. Just like Sakura. Pain flashed through her eyes as she clutched at the cloth that covered her naked body.

"What is so wrong with loneliness?"

She paled, shoulders shaking. "Please! Don't leave me!" One trembling hand reached out towards him, fingertips just reaching his bare back. "They come!"

"Who?" Unconsciously he shied away from her touch, as he had so many times before.

"The ghosts." Her voice was soft, hoarse with fear. "The shadows. And she comes back…" Tears were forming in her eyes as she stared up at him, hand still hanging in air.

Pain clenched at his heart as he looked at her. He knew the fear that she felt, the horrors that she spoke of. Emerald eyes had watched him sadly as he sat in his lonely house, soft tones had whispered to him as he lay in bed. Those jade orbs knew what went on, knew what happened. And the sadness…a terrible ache that never went away from him.

"Please. Don't leave me here."

Silence echoed, and then he said it, his dark eyes filling up with the betrayal that he was performing.

"I won't."

_Your best friends are your worst enemies, and your enemies are your closest friends. That is how it always was and always will be. Because even the people you love will have to leave someday._


	3. They Say

They fight as if they are one; he swings her around his hip as she stabs three men in various vital parts, she vaults over his shoulders as he attacks her opponent. They are amazing, spectacular, moving like gods. As soon as it begins, the fight is over, the other Jounin helping as much as they can, but none as perfect as Uzumaki and Haruno.

It happens in an instant; one of the "dead" men stands up, supporting himself on a nearby rock, and performs a simple yet deadly jutsu. Only she notices, only she moves, throwing all of her weight against her lover, at whom it is directed. He skids away just as it hits her, sending her slim body flying through the air to fall some thirty feet away.

Silence echoes around them and with a mighty bellow he turns on the last man and murders him, tearing him apart. Spinning, he races to the other side of the battleground, eyes full of blazing tears.

She lays there, her body broken and bloody, like a china doll dipped in red ink and dropped on the floor. Her eyes are already dim, but she smiles up at him as he picks her up gently, his tears landing on her face, washing away the grime.

She whispers something, but nobody but him hears. One shaking hand reaches up and touches his face, wiping away a few precious tears. He grasps it, murmuring something back to her. She smiles, the brilliance of it lighting up her face for the last time, then slips away, her hand still pressed against his cheek.

With a howl, he bends over her body, all orders from anyone forgotten, as he mourns the death of the one person who truly loved him.

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_They say love is a wonderful thing._

_But they don't know,_

_do they?_

_Because love can only hurt_

_when the thing that loved is_

_gone._


End file.
